


my one and only, my lifeline

by potstickermaster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, flirty antics, song prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickermaster/pseuds/potstickermaster
Summary: After a few weeks of this, Lena realized that subtlety isn’t working and that maybe she needs to confront Kara with a confession. (Or maybe just flash her boobs? Is that the most direct, least subtle way?) // Song prompt: Dress by Taylor Swift





	my one and only, my lifeline

It was a busy night. The L-Corp fundraiser auction had gone smoothly during the afternoon but it’s tonight’s mixer that has everyone at the grand ballroom milling about with champagne flutes in hand. And, ever the dutiful host, Lena brushes elbows with various stakeholders and businesspeople in order to personally thank them for their attendance and donation.

It has been an hour, however, and the rush of the event doesn’t seem to die down. She is conversing with a pair of investors—who compliment her fluency in French—about what she thinks is next for the European Union when she feels that familiar pull, like gravity has shifted and her focus with it. She stops midway her sentence and looks to the direction of the doors. Sure enough, there she is—her sun, making her way to the party with a radiance that seems to capture the attention of everyone else in attendance.

Kara doesn’t seem to notice Lena yet as she offers a polite smile and a wave to the man who approaches her. The CEO doesn’t know who he is; must be a reporter. She feels something akin to jealousy as Kara takes his hand and shakes it, but she doesn’t linger. Kara walks away with a polite nod immediately. It’s when she walks past him that she finally looks up and meets Lena’s gaze. The dark-haired woman likes to think the way Kara lights up with a smile brighter than the room itself is because of her, but one thing is for sure: Lena’s jaw drops as she fully takes in the blonde’s appearance. Kara looks absolutely _stunning._ Lena takes a moment or two to collect her bearings and hopes it isn’t obvious that she’s staring.

Scratch that. She’s definitely going to stare.

Kara is wearing a dark blue pin check bow shirt that is loosely tucked under navy sailor pants. She seems taller and more confident in the dark brown oxford heels she is wearing, Lena notices—there is poise in her every step that Lena feels like she is seeing her for the first time. Her honey hair is in a loose side-swept braid, perfectly framing her breathtaking features. From where she stood, the CEO could see the way her blue eyes sparkled from the lighting in the venue despite the glasses she still wears; sees the way her lips, painted a light shade of red or orange, Lena isn’t quite sure, quirks up ever so slightly like she’s pleased that she’s captured her attention. There is color on her cheeks too, a blush that she isn’t sure is from make-up or from the way Lena is blatantly staring. Lena forgets about the investors she was talking to. She excuses herself from the conversation and turns fully to the blonde’s direction. There’s an urge to walk toward Kara, to _touch,_ if only to make sure she’s real and not a figment of her imagination, or perhaps to see if she’d turn to ashes upon contact with the goddess who graces her presence, but she knows here and now isn’t the time nor the place to do such.

 _Never_ is the time and place for it, she knows. She swallows the desire, though it remains simmering in her core.

“Lena,” Kara greets when she manages to walk closer to the businesswoman. She has a small smile on her face, almost as if she is feeling shy. Lena finds it endearing, however, and as she gives her best friend another appreciative once over, a smirk finds its way on her blood red-painted lips. There’s the urge again, to _touch,_ and she clasps her hands in front of her just to calm herself. She slides her palms against each other, internally sighing at how they feel clammy. She realizes she’s trembling.

“Kara,” she greets back, the name falling easily from her lips. Many more words could leave them just as easily but Lena manages to bite her tongue. She smiles at the blonde as she brushes the fingers of her right hand over her left wrist if only to imitate Kara’s touch. “You clean up rather nicely,” she adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

There’s a crack in the blonde’s suit of confidence as she flushes lightly and laughs, a hand fidgeting with her glasses in a nervous gesture. She shrugs and gives Lena a once over too, though it’s one that lingers. Lena notices. She threads her fingers together as she feels Kara’s gaze rake over her.

Lena is wearing a classic black dress—it’s flowy, with the hem almost brushing against the floor even as she wears a pair of black suede Louboutin pumps. She shifts, ever so slightly, and she revels in the minute widening of Kara’s eyes as she catches an eyeful of Lena’s right leg through the slit that ran down from her mid-thigh as her gaze made it’s way up, up, up. The body of her dress tease an abundant amount of skin, she knows. It’s sleeveless, and the collar of the dress reveals the curve of her collarbones. The expensive black fabric is cut with a V-shaped space with the width of her shoulders, finally converging over her navel, and the exposed skin is barely covered with sheer lace material that didn’t really hide anything, especially not the dip of her cleavage. Her hair is loose over her shoulder, and when she lightly runs her fingers through it, she makes sure to let her digits linger over the valley of her breasts.

Her lips quirk up when she watches Kara’s flush deepen and the blonde coughs lightly as she looks away.

It’s definitely one of Kara’s reactions that she wished for tonight.

So maybe she arranged a fundraiser auction just to have an excuse to organize a semi-formal mixer as an after-party. So maybe the reason for said after-party is so she has an excuse to dress up and maybe up her...game a little.

So maybe she _did_ plan all of this just to tease Kara.

Lena has long realized and accepted the fact that her bubbly friend was more than just a friend to her. She did pretend that buying CatCo was an investment for all of a week, after which she ditched the pretense and wholly embraced the fact that her little crush on the reporter had gone worse.

So maybe she _did_ like Kara Danvers. A lot. And Kara seems to like her, too. At first, Lena took her kindness and generosity as something all friends do. She has discovered that yes, friends are kind and generous, but Kara’s attitude toward her is different, so different, from Alex’s, or Winn’s, or Jess’s, or Sam’s. Sam doesn’t blush when Lena compliments the shirt she wears. Even Jess doesn’t text and call her as much as Kara does. Winn, even with his little fanaticism on her, doesn’t stutter as much as Kara does when Lena compliments her work. And Alex’s laugh had been one of amusement, not nervousness, when Lena made a joke about her bringing _guns_ to a party.

Lena made the same joke to Kara, once, when she dropped by her apartment—the blonde was in a sleeveless shirt, and the CEO dared touch her bicep, teasing her of _bet you can lift me, Danvers._ Kara’s reaction was to blush furiously and snigger in the most awkward yet most adorable way.

So of course, Lena thinks the idea that Kara at least likes her back isn’t too far-fetched. Still, just when Lena thought she was supposed to be the cold, unfeeling bitch, there she had Kara Danvers, dense as osmium. That, or Kara absolutely, truly did _not_ like her back, contrary to all evidence, and Lena would have been wrong. But Lena is never wrong.

( _There’s a first time for everything,_ a voice in her head says, though it quiets every time Kara looks at her.)

She has also long accepted the fact that this dance with Kara would see no end if neither of them make a move. And it’s not like she hasn’t tried. After a few weeks of her assumption, she started dropping subtle hints—heart emojis on texts, late night pizza deliveries, wading through horrifying musical marathons, even so far as “accidentally” calling Kara _darling._

After a few weeks of this, Lena realized that subtlety isn’t working and that maybe she needs to confront Kara with a confession. (Or maybe just flash her boobs? Is that the most direct, least subtle way?) It’s a rational decision—the confession one, at least—that is carefully considered, consequences thereof weighed, and it has two outcomes: she and Kara would at least go on a date, or their friendship would be severely strained. If, after tonight, Kara still _wouldn’t_ budge, then maybe she’ll give up. Maybe Kara just thinks of her as a super mega best friend.

Maybe. She hopes not.

Otherwise, well. She supposes it’s easier to move on when she has no other choice but to do so. Besides, she had been alone for sometime. Going back to such state should be easy enough.

She tilts her head at Kara. “You’re a little red,” Lena says, trying to mask her amusement as worry. The blonde only flushes a brighter color that almost matches the tint of her lips.

“You look—” The blonde pauses. Lena waits for her to meet her gaze and the reporter fusses with her glasses again before finally doing so. “You look- um- amazing. Wow.” The blonde licks her lips. The blush is still on her cheeks, lovely and pink under the rim of her glasses, and Lena longs to take those off.

Perhaps along with other articles of clothing as well.

“I- I have no words,” Kara manages to continue. She is full on staring now, mouth open as if she is searching for something to say. Lena tightens the way her hands are clasped,  and just when she is about to tell the reporter that she doesn’t have to shower her with compliments, the blonde sighs in a dreamy way that the CEO is sure it takes the air from her own lungs. When she speaks, her voice is hushed like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Like there’s something akin to _defeat_ in her voice.

“You’re...you’re so beautiful, Lena.”

Lena isn’t expecting _that._ She laughs breathlessly and ducks her head at the compliment. When she looks up, she’s biting her lip, and Kara seems rather proud of herself. “Thank you,” Lena murmurs. She pushes her hair behind her ear. “Can I offer you a drink?” She asks, then gestures to one of the servers walking around with a tray of champagne.

Kara smiles and signals for the server to come over. She picks up two flutes and hands one to Lena. The CEO quirks up an eyebrow but takes it anyway, and if her fingers brush against Kara’s, it’s purely accidental. “Congratulations on your successful auction,” Kara declares, lifting her glass for a toast. “And a rather lovely after-party.”

Lena clinks her glass with hers, a cryptic smile playing on her lips. “I’m not quite sure I’ve achieved the purpose of tonight yet,” she replies. She hides behind her glass as she takes a sip and watches the crinkle between Kara’s eyebrows exhibit itself. The blonde clutches the body of her glass with both hands as she tilts her head.

“What do you mean?” The reporter pushes. “I’ve heard you’ve reached around 200% of your goals. Didn’t you?”

Lena smirks. “I thought you said you’re here as a _friend.”_

Kara takes on a bashful smile. “I am,” she insists. She adjusts her glasses and shrugs. “Also as a fan. It’s just, you know. Habit.”

“A fan?” Lena fixates on. She takes a sip of her champagne as Kara chuckles.

“Forbes 30 under 30 for Science but nominated for several other industries, one of the most advanced innovators in the planet, most powerful woman in National City, a philanthropist with the biggest heart,” Kara details, punctuating her list with a wave of her arms to gesture at the on-going after-party. “I’d say I have more than enough reasons to be.”

The CEO preens at that. She smiles, eyelashes fluttering as she feels the warmth of it and Kara’s words spread across her chest. “You’re too kind, Kara,” she laughs. “But flattery will get you nowhere.”

Kara’s tinted lips quirk up into a smile. “I have nowhere else to be but here with you, anyway.”

Ah. So they’ve began. She isn’t even aware the game had started, but as Kara seems to rethink her words, sipping her drink in the process to mask her silence, Lena finds herself chuckling. It’s hard to read Kara sometimes but the way she so easily manages to say things like this makes Lena hope for the best.

Or the worst: that Kara is entirely too innocent to know she’s pulling Lena into her orbit yet again, and Lena is unable to do anything but let her entire being revolve around her best friend.

“Ever the sweet talker,” Lena shoots back with a smile of her own.

Kara chuckles. “I’m inclined to think honesty is much appreciated.”

“Honesty?” Lena laughs. “Of course it is, darling, but I’m afraid if we’re doing that I have _many_ more things to say.”

Kara’s smile falters a little. Lena bites her lip.

“Oh?” The blonde prompts, but the CEO only nods. She thinks she sees Kara swallow and she smirks.

“Yes.” Lena takes a step closer and reaches out to brush an imaginary lint on Kara’s shoulder. “Have I mentioned you look quite _dashing_ tonight?”

“I d-don’t think so, but- but thanks.” Kara obviously swallows this time. Lena keeps their proximity and smiles up at the blonde. She reaches for the woman’s flute and she thinks Kara is quivering.

“Shall I refill this for you?” The raven-haired woman offers. With Kara wearing heels as high as hers, she has to look up at the blonde, ever so slightly, and their closeness makes Lena’s desire to touch and _kiss_ increase a hundredfold. She licks her lips, bites back a smile when Kara timidly nods. She wraps her free hand around the top of the flute, her fingers innocently (not) brushing against Kara’s once more.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Lena says as she pulls back.

“Trust me,” Kara breathes out. “I won’t.”

The CEO smirks as she locks her gaze with Kara even as she steps around the woman to head to the bar. There’s satisfaction that rushes through her as the blonde follows her with that piercing gaze, turning where she stands. Lena sees the way Kara’s throat bob as she swallows and oh, how she longs to kiss down that pale neck.

 _Mind off the gutter,_ Lena reminds herself. She takes her sweet time, if only to collect her bearings. Upon reaching the bar, she deposits the glasses on the counter and leans both her hands against it. After asking the bartender how he is doing, she requests for some red wine to replace their drinks. She takes a moment to breathe, really breathe, because as much as this is supposed to take Kara’s breath away her own is sacrificed too, what with the effort to keep her hands and words to herself.

This plan is harder than she thought.

She thanks the server for the drinks. She turns, the glasses in her hands, and sees that Kara didn’t move as promised. She smirks to herself and walks back to the woman, everyone else disappearing from view, and she thinks she sees on Kara’s face her own reaction when the blonde entered the room: all rosy cheeks and breathlessness.

God. Is it too soon to be imagining if this would be how Kara would react to her walking down the aisle?

( _Too soon,_ her brain screams. _Definitely too soon._ )

“Thank you for waiting,” Lena murmurs as she offers the blonde her glass of red wine.

“Always, for you,” Kara whispers, almost as if she didn’t mean to say it, because then she’s taking a swig of her drink as she looks towards the group of whoever-they-may-be milling about some distance away from them. Lena thinks she should take the opportunity now, before it’s gone. Just rip the fucking bandaid off. She knows she should.

There still remains the fear of the possibility that Kara doesn’t like her like that. She doesn’t know if she could live a life without Kara. But the greater the risk, the greater the reward, isn’t it? She doesn’t want Kara as _just a best friend_ anymore. Not when they could be something else. So she dives headfirst and hopes for the best—plenty of wine over at the bar otherwise.

“You know, Kara,” she whispers as she takes a step closer. Kara turns to her and the blonde makes a small noise when she discovers their newfound proximity. Lena’s free hand settles on Kara’s shoulder, her glass of wine on the other (and maybe she should have drank it first, Dutch courage and all). She pauses just as the base of her palm touch Kara’s chest and she feels the blonde hold her breath. Lena smiles, fixates green gaze on the bow of Kara’s shirt before she drags it up to meet Kara’s eyes. It surprises her how blown they have become, and she thinks the blush on her best friend’s cheeks hasn’t quite gone away.

“Yes, Lena?” The blonde whispers. Her voice quivers.

Lena bites her lip, hesitates. Catches the way blue eyes flicker to her lips. “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Kara freezes. Lena doesn’t move too, and everything stops as she focuses on the blonde, trying to catch any and all reactions. The raven-haired woman licks her lips and pulls away, only slightly, but her own breath catches when she feels a hand on her hip pull her flush to the blonde.

“Perfect,” Kara whispers back. “I don’t have to feel guilty about ripping it off.”

//

Lena fully expected Kara to keep her word, but she doesn’t. She takes her sweet fucking time taking the fucking dress off and Lena burns until she is fire herself. Kara stands behind her, unmoving except for the hands on her waist. Lena sighs when the blonde sweeps her hair to the side and presses a kiss on her neck. It quashes the remaining patience she has, stokes her growing anticipation.

“Breathe, Lena,” Kara whispers against her ear, and when the raven-haired woman shudders she realizes that she has been holding her breath. She chuckles and leans her head back, resting it against Kara’s shoulder.

“You’re killing me,” Lena whispers back. Kara hums and nuzzles the crook of her neck.

“What a waste of this lovely dress if I don’t take my time,” she shoots back. Kara chuckles and presses a feather-light kiss under Lena’s ear.

“If you don’t take it off in the next two seconds,” Lena threatens, but her breath stutters when those hands finally move. She feels a light tug on the zipper just as her hair is swept to the side again.

“Trust me,” Kara murmurs as drags the zipper down with _agonizing_ slowness. “It’d be so easy to rip this off, Lena.” She presses a small kiss on the pale skin exposed by the parting fabric, and despite the innocence of the gesture, Lena whimpers. She reaches the end of the tape on the small of Lena’s back but instead of pushing it off, she drags her index finger upward, tracing the line of her spine with the lightest hint of her nail. _You’re so beautiful,_ Kara whispers reverently as her hands find home once again on Lena’s waist. The blonde raises her hands, tenderly caressing the soft skin of Lena’s shoulders, then finally pushes the offending fabric to the side, revealing the constellations that reside on Lena’s back. The blonde murmurs praises as she presses another kiss on her skin. And another, and another, and another. Lena whimpers yet again.

“I think I’d much rather take my time just this once,” Kara admits.

Lena doubts that. She thinks Kara is just as impatient as she is. She thinks Kara would remove her dress in record time, if prompted correctly. She _definitely_ thinks she can test the waters, if only because she’s already quivering with need and anticipation— _for fuck’s sake,_ she hisses. She has waited long enough. Her heart is pounding against her ears and she thinks she’s unable to breathe until she is out of this dress. She sighs and presses her ass back against Kara. Reaching behind her, pale fingers find purchase in blonde hair, further ruining Kara’s already messy braid, and she tugs gently, though the reporter answers her with a resounding moan. She tilts her head and brushes her lips against the blonde’s jaw.

“Take it off,” Lena husks. _“Please.”_

Kara growls.

Oh, how Lena loves it when she’s right.

//

Lena _is_ always right, but Kara proves her otherwise when she made the dark-haired woman come again, and again, and _again_ that night despite insisting she can’t anymore. Her stupid but very lovely black dress is strewn somewhere in Lena’s bedroom, forgotten.

(The next morning, she wakes up to Kara frowning as she stares at the bunched up fabric on the floor. “I’m curious. How much is that dress?” She asks.

Lena smirks. “You don’t want to know.”)


End file.
